It's been a rough past couple of weeks in our house. Lots of sickness, numerous trips to the doctor, too many cancelled plans and shuffled schedules, and, if possible, the house has gotten even messier than it was prior to all of this. The optimist in me (what?!...I totally have a little of it) says that I should just be thankful that the illness is all minor and, in theory, short-lived. But the pessimist in me thinks that this just might be what pushes me over the edge into a full-blown nervous breakdown.
I continue to be asked by people how I'm liking staying at home. I feel like it's the same as when you're pregnant and people ask you if you're excited (which I always found to be a dumb question anyway). It just feels like there's a right answer that people are expecting. Sort of like the "how are you today?" thing. You're supposed to answer with "good" and be done with it. I'm supposed to answer that staying at home is going well. If I give any other answer it's either too much information or just plain makes me look like a bad mom.
I don't hate my new role. But I can't say that fully love it. And I'm not embarrassed by that and I make no apologies. Because I *do* love my children. And I *am* thankful for this opportunity. I really do think years from now I'll look back on this time and be so glad that I was able to spend the extra time with the kids. I look at Max and feel like I've just blinked and he became a 5-year-old. And, despite that last week was one of the longest of my life :), it was nice to not have to worry about finding alternate daycare and calling employees to ask favors to work extra hours. And I could be the one to give them extra kisses (and wipe their noses....and get whatever it is that they have five days later...).
The point to all of this (I swear that there is one), is that I am beginning to realize that the pressure to 100% love this staying at home thing is totally self-imposed. Brian doesn't expect a clean house, or apparently, a sane wife. He continues to love me no matter how disgusting our family room is or how often I serve him breakfast for dinner (it's SO easy...I just can't stop). And he puts up with my constant emotional breakdowns. And the kids seem to love me despite the fact that I forever mess up as a mom. My patience has taken a nosedive the past few weeks, and poor Max hasn't been to school a minute before 8:40 (i.e. the time school starts) since September. And as long as my family still loves me, which appears to be an unconditional, long-term thing, I really am as happy as a mother and wife could be. It doesn't mean that I'm not allowed bad days and weekly cries on the kitchen floor (hypothetically, of course). It just means that it's more motivation to keep working on being a better mother and wife. Because these four, beautiful souls in my life really do make me want to be a better person. And someday I will go back to working outside of the home. And I'm sure at that point I'll miss things about staying at home. The grass is always greener, right? But this is what I'm supposed to be doing right now, and I've always loved a good challenge, so I'll continue to work on all these domestic skills that appear to not be a part of my genetic makeup. And on the bad days, I'll take great solace in the fact that my "bosses" give performance reviews via kisses and hugs.
kata, just wanted to say how much i appreciate your honesty in these posts. I know I would literally lose my mind if I were at home, even with just one child. In my mind, nothing makes you realize how easy it is to go to work everyday more than a few days of stay at home momming...In my mind, you are a total badass ;)
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